


The Doctor's Planetarium Checklist

by notjodieyet



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Clingy Doctor, F/M, For a Friend, Gratuitous Kissing in a Museum, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Makeout Session in a Planetarium, Possible Counterfeits, TARDIS Team Cuddles, feral ten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjodieyet/pseuds/notjodieyet
Summary: The TARDIS team is trapped on Earth. Donna thinks it best to take a field trip to a museum.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm)/Rose Tyler, The Doctor & Donna Noble, The Doctor (Doctor Who) & Martha Jones, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), The Doctor/The Master/Rose Tyler
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	The Doctor's Planetarium Checklist

“Day three hundred and sixty two,” mumbled Rose to the surface of the dining table. “Earth has become more monotonous than ever before —”

“Sit up, Rose,” said Martha from behind her.

“Noooo.”

“We’ve been here for a week. Breakfast’s ready.”

Rose pouted at the dark wood. “Everything sucks and I’m not hungry anyway. Leave me alone.”

“Have you seen the Doctor, by any chance?” There was the _clink_ of ceramic on wood as Martha placed Rose’s breakfast by her head. “Or the Master. Pick a Time Lord, really.”

“Nope. Nope. They probably stayed in bed.” Rose groped around on the table to find the bowl and slid it closer to her head. She scooped the contents up with the spoon and navigated it wobbily to her lips. It was warm porridge. “I wouldn’t interrupt.”

Martha sighed. “Sit up straight, Rose.”

“No.”

“Rose. You’re acting very imma—” Rose assumed she was about to say immature, but Martha cut herself off. “Donna. Have you seen the Doctor?”

“Why do you need him? …Is Rose okay?” Rose felt the weight of a hand gently patting her head. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m dying. Thanks for asking.”

She heard Donna click her tongue. “Why do you need the Doctor, again?”

“It’s ten AM. He’s usually up and about right now. Maybe,” and Rose didn’t think she was imagining the longing in Martha’s voice, “he’s been fixing up the TARDIS so we can leave.” The TARDIS had broken approximately three hundred sixty two days ago (or rather, one week) and they’d been stranded in London, 2017 since.

The Doctor had been acting strangely from the day after they got stuck. He had adored the museums, and chatting with brand new people, and the public library, but the cabin fever had set in all too quickly. He’d made three pots of tea, with tubs of sugar in all of them; lay on the floor during dinner and refused to eat; and stolen puzzle pieces from Martha’s puzzle.

Whatever the Doctor was doing, Rose did actually want to see him. She might have been extraordinarily bored, but the Doctor was perfect and warm and good. His gentle kisses and soft reassurances made everything much better, even accidental Earthly confinement.

“I’ll get the Doctor,” said Rose, standing up.

“Eat your breakfast, first,” said Martha.

“Nah.”

Rose left the kitchen and her bowl of porridge steaming on the table.

* * *

She found the Doctor atop the Master, in a greatly less compromising position than she’d found them in many times before. The Doctor was wearing his usual soft nightshirt, and he was kissing the Master very sweetly. (The Master, for his part, was wearing a t-shirt that had a terribly cheesy joke about Ernest Hemingway).

“Hey, darling,” said Rose.

The Master pushed the Doctor’s face away. “Rose, thank Rassilon’s holy fucking tits. He won’t stop clinging to me.”

“Rassi — never mind. Doctor, babe, leave your poor boyfriend alone.”

The Doctor murmured something that sounded like a disagreement and began slowly kissing the Master’s throat. “You’re gorgeous, did you know that? Just gorgeous.”

“Doctor, I have biscuits.” The Master didn’t look all too inconvenienced by the Doctor’s kisses, but Rose would like him to herself for a little while, for what it was worth. “Doctor, please.”

“Come ‘ere.”

“Doctorrrr!” Rose giggled, but she walked to the bed anyway. The Doctor adjusted so he was draped over both his partners, and kissed Rose. “Doctor! I’m meant to get you _out_ of bed.”

“You’re trapped with me now,” said the Doctor, voice muffled, his mouth buried in the crook of Rose’s neck. He was comfortably warm, and comfortably heavy, and smelled like warm vanilla and summer evenings. Perfect content was being snuggled up under the Doctor, she thought, on a morning with no plans and no concerns.

The Master grasped for Rose’s hand and winked. “You were here to get us away, weren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You look really good today,” said the Doctor.

Donna stormed into the bedroom, a woman with war in her eyes. “Doctor Zuazolazigorraga. I swear to God.”

“Don’t _swear_ ,” muttered the Master.

“Shut up, murderer.”

“What was that name?” whispered Rose.

Donna looked at her, sharply. “Well, he doesn’t have a _real_ name. Unless you’ve decided to lend him yours?” (Rose flushed).

“Why do you need me?” said the Doctor, finding a nice place at Rose’s collarbone to press his lips to. A bit low in front of Donna, for her tastes, but lovely nonetheless. Rose ruffled his very, very fluffy hair.

Donna planted her hands on her hips, decisively. “We’re headed to the Natural History Museum today. Perk up.”

“A museum? A _museum_. Like history students.”

“Don’t be so excited,” said Donna wryly. “Doctor, I need you to get out of bed, please.”

The Doctor beckoned for her. “Come here. I have to tell you something.”

Donna crept forward with more than a little trepidation, and stood a good distance away from the bed. “What do you want?” she said.

“Closer.”

She sighed and shuffled closer. The Doctor giggled and pulled her onto the bed with them, trapping her as well. “No museum yet.”

“Doctor!” It seemed even Donna Noble couldn’t resist his charm; she laughed lightly and threw her arms around him. They had all been more than a little stressed lately — Donna hid it well, but she had started to _stress knit_ , which was a dead giveaway — and maybe Rose wasn’t entirely alone in finding the Doctor’s double heartbeat and cheery smile the most comforting thing in the world.

Rose rested her head against Donna’s shoulder. “No museum yet, I think,” she said.

“Fucking. Museum,” said the Master.

“Shut up,” said Rose, fondly.

Martha came in a few minutes later. She was also tugged into bed, and given a friendly kiss on the cheek. They all lay in an uncomfortable tangle of bodies for a good few minutes. “I assume we aren’t going to the museum, then?”

“We aren’t going to a fucking museum, period,” grumbled the Master.

They went to the museum.

* * *

“Babe, why are you looking at the dinosaur bones like that?” said Rose, leaning on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Gonna steal ‘em.”

“No, Doctor.”

The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand, roughly. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

“No stealing the dinosaurs!”

“Kiss you in the planetarium.” The Doctor grinned like a rogue fresh out of a cheap fantasy novel and quirked his eyebrows. Rose couldn’t help but giggle; he looked ridiculous and she loved him loads.

“Lead the way.”

The Doctor and Rose practically ran, giggling, through the hallway of the museum. Rose nearly tripped over a few small kids (it wasn’t really her fault if they were below knee level! People were not supposed to be below knee level!) and shouted “Sorry!” to their mums as she jogged away.

There was a line for the planetarium, and the Doctor and Rose used the time waiting in it to kiss, gratutiously. “Don’t you think somebody will complain?” said Rose.

“Possibly. Do you care?”

“No.”

The planetarium was wonderfully dark, and there were endless projected stars above as Rose climbed onto the Doctor’s lap and attempted to snog his face off. She learned absolutely nothing about supernovas. She _did_ , however, have a really fantastic time kissing her boyfriend.

They managed to scramble apart before the lights flickered on, the Doctor looking utterly and gorgeously disheveled. Rose thought she spotted a bit of her lipstick smeared on the corner of his lip and near his jawbone, and she smiled proudly. “Everything you ever dreamed of?”

“And more.”

They walked back out of the planetarium. Rose checked the museum pamphlet map she’d picked up at the entrance (or rather, that Donna had shoved into her hands at the entrance) and considered their options. “We could go to the aquarium and —”

The Doctor perked up. “Steal the fish?”

“ _No_.”

“…Steal the penguins.”

Rose squinted at him. “I was going to say kiss, but you seem really into this stealing thing?”

The Doctor slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her closer in the nearly blinding light of the outside world. “Does that mean we can do it?”

“No!!”

“Fine.” The Doctor glanced around. “Any chance you’ve seen the Master?”

“I am not passing you off to your criminal boyfriend so you two can cause trouble. We can sneak back to the TARDIS and watch _Parks & Rec_.”

The Doctor frowned. “We could go to the art section.”

“And look at naked marble men?” said Rose, who was not opposed to looking at naked marble men.

“I think there’s a counterfeit in there. We could solve a mystery.”

Rose waggled her eyebrows. “I like mysteries,” she said.

* * *

They arrived at the art section (she was pretty sure it was named something other than the art section, but she was also pretty sure Donna had the brain capacity today) and the Doctor immediately went up to lick a painting.

“Doctor!”

“What? I have to date the paint,” he said.

“It’s poisonous!”

The Doctor pouted. “Not to me.”

“Security is going to get on you.”

“How else am I going to tell if it’s really from—” Rose saw the Doctor steal a glance at the plaque. “— 1711?”

“That says 1811, babe.”

“1811. This is why I need my glasses, Rose!”

Rose grabbed his arm. “Are you sure this is a counterfeit?”

“Totally sure.”

“Doctor. It’s okay. I don’t need a mystery.”

The Doctor pulled her close, in the bustle and crowd of the art section of the museum, and kissed her long and gentle and sweet. She hovered her fingers gently on the back of his neck. Rose could hear somebody whistle (did they think she was getting engaged?) and she shot them a thumbs-up. “I know you’re bored.”

“It’s okay. I’m good.”

“I just wanted us to have fun.”

“I did have fun with you! We made out in the planetarium, remember?”

“I’ve made out in a planetarium before,” the Doctor admitted. “I sort of maybe had sex in a planetarium with the Master once.”

Rose blinked. “Like in front of everybody?”

“It’s dark!”

“But in front of everybody.”

“It was — it was —” The Doctor turned red. “People are looking at us, Rose.”

“In front of everybody.”

“It was discreet! And it’s dark.”

“What I’m getting here is that the Master once gave you a handjob in a planetarium,” said Rose, stifling giggles.

The Doctor kissed her, as if that would distract from the past planetarium handjob, and said, “Can you return to the original point, please?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t need you to make up a whole counterfeit. I promise. I was having fun with you anyway.”

“Really?”

“We could go look at the naked marble men and I could dare you to kiss them,” said Rose.

“Okay.”

“But.” Rose sauntered closer to him. “If you _wanted_ to make up a counterfeit mystery… and you _wanted_ to be the thief… I wouldn’t dislike that.”

The Doctor smirked. “Okay.”

And they did.


End file.
